


Reticent

by Mansaeboysbe



Category: K-pop, TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, Flowers, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 13:31:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16159922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mansaeboysbe/pseuds/Mansaeboysbe
Summary: A story of Jihyo, flowers, and the girl living down the street.





	Reticent

**Author's Note:**

> -Admin Mari

Jihyo would sit on her porch surrounded by potted plants and wind chimes. It was closed in but often times she would leave the porch door open when she was out watering her flowers or reading at her small table placed in between her daffodils and daisies.

At times girls would come and go like the gentle spring breeze and she’d welcome them with open arms and a bright smile and would wave them goodbye like it was the last time they would ever come around. The tips of her fingers would play with the end of her hair and her eyes would flit to your corner of the cul de sac when they left, as if she was looking for a solution to her problem, a soothing reminder that the world was not all bad and the tide of good would always come back in with the rise of the moon.

In the mornings you often settled on the crooked wooden steps that led up to your house and enjoyed the calm of the world as it was just waking, before obligations demanded attention like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

When she looked in your direction, even with a simple glance, it was enough to cause a blush to rise in your cheeks.

But you never looked away.

Not when her expression was finally tranquil. Like a piece of her trusted you, a neighbor who had always been there but had never really spoken with her, and for once she was able to relax into a state of wanting to say something but not knowing how.

Instead of always having to hold her tongue.

There was always something to her that held a mystery all it’s own and often you wondered if she was even aware of what it meant. But it was that thing, whatever it was, that kept her so closed off, anticipating the arrival of some curveball that would crash the house of cards she had configured with a burning desire for stability.

Maybe that’s why she always looked away first, closed her door with a gentle click, and left you gazing at the begonias that guarded her home.


End file.
